


A Braid for Every Sunrise

by Swagza (zanthe)



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 23:58:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7196822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanthe/pseuds/Swagza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin likes to wake up in the mornings to watch the sunrise. Chrom eventually joins in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Braid for Every Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to keep from using pronouns for Robin owob

A light breeze whistled against the hillside, whispering its secrets passed down from locations in the North. The light yellow grass swayed gently, caressed by the breeze, occasional dew drops falling from the stems, disturbed from their night-time slumber. Mornings like these were what gave Robin the willpower to get up so early. The sun wasn't peeking from the horizon yet, gentle rays barely rising from the distant mountain tops. Birds lay silent in their nests, and nothing stirred between the transition of night and day, when the moon was falling back to the unseen skies and the sun was showing it's bright face.

Robin had no idea when this habit of early rising had started, perhaps on one of those restless nights, when the haunting images of the monstrosities of battle raided the mind.

Perhaps it was the lack of recollection, amnesia prevented Robin from being able to recall any beautiful days witnessed prior, but that didn't mean the mornings to come couldn't be enjoyed. A dawn like this was rare, however, the group didn't often pick such lovely spots in the open to make camp, instead nestling in more secure, closed areas. 

Contrary to the beliefs of most, Robin hated being indoors, hated the sensation of being closed in; trapped. A candlelit book or a simple task helped chase away the feeling, postpone the realization that the indoors felt too confining, and often it was unavoidable, so no complaints were ever heard from the tactician, and Robin never let anyone see such a state of distress.

One morning, Chrom had, by chance, woken much earlier than usual, and had decided a morning walk would do him good. Still half-asleep, he ventured out, walked around camp, and then tripped on a root. If he hadn't tripped, Robin wouldn't have noticed him, several yards off, grumbling indignantly. Chuckling and helping the prince get back on his feet, Robin invited him to sit down and watch the brightening sky. 

Eventually, it became habitual for both of them to watch the sunrise whenever the travel was peaceful. Neither ever spoke during these moments, words simply weren't necessary. The silence was never awkward, it was a moment of peace and quiet that they both were content to wordlessly enjoy. As the weeks passed and feelings were acknowledged and discovered to be mutual, these sunrises grew in meaning, and the prince and his tactician grew ever closer. 

One morning, Chrom started to braid Robin's hair. The braids were sloppy at first, but they grew neater with time. "One for every sunrise," he'd explained later. Chrom would pout for a good few minutes whenever Robin undid the braids, "I can't keep them forever, you know," Robin would remind him. It was soon forgotten with a peck on the cheek and an indignant huff from Chrom; he couldn't hide his smile though. 

Today was another one of those calm days, Robin got dressed and headed out, scaling the hill that sheltered the camp and standing atop it, looking at the vast painting called the sky. It was still dark, the sky transitioning between indigo and pink, shades of blues, whites, and yellows in between, and cirrus streaking the sky with red and pink hues. Robin laid down in the grass, facing towards the spot the sun would rise, looking at the dewdrops still perched on blades of drying autumn grass as they reflected the sky above them. A gust of wind compelled the tactician to rise again and greet the wind, eyes closed, head raised. It almost felt like the sky was beckoning, the wind whispering words of persuasion, the air was a tempting element. Was this a side effect for having the heart of a dragon? To yearn for the open skies, feel the wind, plunge into the clouds and never touch earth again? Was this why Robin almost despised the confinement of walls? 

Chrom soon joined Robin on the hilltop, and the thoughts were forgotten as they sat together, Robin leaning gently against Chrom, and took in the view before them. And with Chrom beginning to braid Robin's hair again, the tactician gazed towards the far mountaintops, the sun beginning to show itself from behind a large peak, and wondered, how many more of these sunrises would they enjoy together?


End file.
